Friend, Father, Tormentor, Master
by His Majesty the Emperor
Summary: Ten years after the events of Revenge of the Sith Lord Vader thinks about his past and upon the people who impacted his life, particularly his Master, Emperor Palpatine. One shot.


**I've decided to cut my teeth on a Vader one shot. Hopefully it isn't to angsty. I don't own Star Wars and I never will. I am making no money off of this at all. Please leave a review.**

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Ten years.

It has been ten years since the day of my birth. Ten years since I was reborn in fire and pain. Ten years since I became that which I am today by casting off the shackles of the Jedi. Only ten years, and yet it feels like an eternity has passed.

The Master has kept me busy since my rebirth. Across the galaxy I have traveled, enforcing his will. The Master has made me into a symbol, a dark shadow to be feared. With that fear comes respect. And perhaps for that I am a little grateful, for I am more respected today than I could ever have been in my past life.

But I am not blind, damaged yes, but not blind. Ever since that day I first opened my eyes to the blood red vision of my visor, ever since I heard the mechanical torment that was my breath I have known what I am.

I am a puppet, a glorified lackey to a manipulative old man, no better than that decrepit old cyborg General Grievous was to Dooku.

The few texts that the Master has allowed me to study laud the power of the Darkside and the glory of the Sith. Of this I have no doubt. The Darkside of the Force is a conduit to powers I had scarcely believed existed. But I am limited by my injuries. What little health I have managed to recover over the years has done little to help in these matters. But I cannot even reach these powers. To a proper Sith the Darkside is supposed to come naturally and with practiced ease. For me it is a labor just to find it, let alone harness it and manipulate it to do my bidding. The Darkside hangs just outside my reach, laughing and taunting as I desperately reach out for it in order to find my strength.

I dress in the trappings of the Sith, I know the fighting forms of the Sith, and I even carry the title of a Sith Lord. But in my weaker moments I realize that I am no Sith. A Sith is supposed to be strong, a master of the Darkside of the Force. I have grown feeble, held down and impaired by these worthless cybernetics and this cumbersome suit. And in many ways the Darkside is the master of me, rather the reverse of what is expected of a proper Sith.

It is ironic I suppose. Beings the galaxy over fear my supposed strength and power. If only they knew what I had been truly capable of. If only they knew. But if they knew just how far I have fallen they would surely laugh.

Damn you Obi-Wan, damn you to whatever Hell there exists for leaving me in this state, why couldn't you simply kill me and allow me to die with dignity? I am a pathetic shade, an echo of what once was. It doesn't matter that few know of who I was or what I have become. There is one that knows, and he revels in my misery at this state.

Palpatine.

Sidious.

Master.

When Anakin was young Palpatine had seemed like such a wonderful man. He was such a good friend. Everything he said made so much sense. He was so pleasant, so caring, so understanding. He actually started to feel like a father. Anakin had never had a father before, and it felt good to have that bond. In a way Palpatine was a substitute for Anakin's own mother, whom he missed so dearly, though he would never mention it. With Palpatine no secret was hidden, no fear went unresolved; no crisis of the heart went undisturbed. He was a role model to look up to, a confidant, a wise man whose knowledge of the world served as a beacon for Anakin to follow and emulate.

It was all a lie. There was never a Palpatine. He was never a friend. He was never a father figure. He did not exist. There was only Sidious. He _used_ me, he _tricked _me. He _made_ me this way. I would have recovered more of my powers years ago if it weren't for this wretched suit. Either the droids that put me back together again were poorly programmed, or this is precisely what Sidious had in mind.

Yes, I am precisely where Sidious wants me, under his thumb. On that day those many years ago, when I, no Anakin, saved his miserable life in order to save…_her_…he knew. He knew that I was more powerful than him. He knew that with my power and his training I could become unstoppable.

Did he plan for this? Did he send Anakin to Mustafar so that Kenobi would find him there and kill him in such a dangerous place? Did he count on _her_ betraying Anakin and telling Kenobi where to find him?

He must have. It cannot be coincidence. Sidious planned this from the beginning. Anakin was never in control of his own fate. Palpatine used him and crippled him so that he could have an apprentice to do his own bidding without fear of betrayal. He used Anakin. He tormented Anakin. He used _me_. He tormented _me. _He torments me still.

Why do I differentiate between Anakin and myself? We are one and the same after all. It is said in ancient Sith lore that once one takes a Sith name a person's past life no longer matters. They cease to be one person and become another entirely. They are reborn. I'm sure that is what I would tell anyone who asked, but if I am to be true to myself, I do it in order to stay the guilt and misery that holds a death grip on my heart. If I think that Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker are two different people, it is indeed easier to cope with this living hell Sidious has put me in.

Anakin loved and was loved. He was respected, lauded, and adored. But none of that mattered. He wanted more. _I_ wanted more. I wanted everything, and received nothing. Everyone betrayed me. Palpatine used me. Obi-Wan underestimated my power. The Council held me back. And Padme…

Padme.

Oh, Padme, why?

I would have given you the stars my angel. Everything that I did I did for you and you alone. I was going to overthrow Palpatine and bring peace to the galaxy. We were going to rule together, and it was going to be so perfect. Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you understand that I was only trying to help?

Why did you make me hurt you?

I…I didn't mean it. Surely you can understand that. You had brought Obi-Wan with you, though now I realize you didn't mean to. I came to the wrong conclusion, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to turn out this way. Padme?

Why don't you answer me?

Why don't you hear me?

Why aren't you here?

Why do I ask these idiotic questions when I know the truth?

You're dead. The only light in my life, the only thing that made Anakin's life worth living, and in a single act of rage I snuffed that light out forever. _What have I done?_

Look at me, wallowing in self-pity after all these years. I wonder, far away on distant Coruscant, does Palpatine know what I am thinking? Does he know that I still ask these questions? Does he know that I still ruminate on the past? Does he know that every time I close my eyes she is there, smiling at me? Does he know that my mind is filled with the screams of children as a dark figure slaughters them in order to save his wife and child?

He knows. He always knows. And he enjoys it.

He enjoys watching me dredge through this miserable excuse for a life, worn down by the chains of guilt and melancholy brought on from years of mistakes. He manipulated me so that I lost everything. My friends, my life, my wife, my future, Palpatine is the reason for every loss I have suffered. And I hate him for it.

I HATE HIM!

And he knows I hate him. He doesn't care. He knows that I have nothing to live for. I have little to no chance of overthrowing him, even if my secret project with Starkiller does pay off. I have lost too much strength. I am condemned to this life. Death would be a sweet release from the torture that is the existence of Darth Vader.

But he wishes to torment me more. Because he can, because I belong to him now, body, mind and soul. It is ironic; I was born a slave all those years ago. I managed to gain my freedom, only to lose it years later. Sidious is my master now, my master, my tormentor, and my jailor in a prison of my own design. I must obey him. That is the trap of the Sith. The power of the Darkside consumes you whole and binds you to your Master for all of eternity. There is no escaping the power of the Darkside. In the end, it can only be embraced.


End file.
